


Lacquered

by Abka_Aten



Series: Starry Night [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Back to Earth, Female Ciel Phantomhive, Gen, Genderbending, Post-Emerald Witch Arc, The Phantomhive's Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 19:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abka_Aten/pseuds/Abka_Aten
Summary: You woke up in a green meadow, near the cemetery with your husband but there was no Ciel between your fingers.You held your heartbreak, your child was missing, probably dead but you could make another one after this fiasco.





	Lacquered

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an experiment using a second point of view.
> 
> Unbetaed.
> 
> English is not my first language.

 

The mansion had changed a bit. If you were not the mistress of the house ( _once)_ you would not realise it. There was indeed a subtle theme, began from the front lawn and the greenhouse and also the potager; red spider lilies and white roses bloomed and replaced your favoured pink roses and white lilies, your prized chrysanthemum and camellia vanished, lily of the valley grew rapidly in their places, the herbs were planted generously along the vegetables and fruits; although your husband probably noticed this sooner than you as he was already in his stance, once that you dubbed  as his thinking pose for almost fifteen minutes.

You entered the properties, feeling weak without you usual armour of silk gown and charming smile as a butler greeted you, and he was not one of yours. You felt your husband stiffened as the other man explained that his mistress had to finish her business before they could conduct a meeting and how would they like to rest while waiting.

 _He had not realised that he talked to the Master and M_ _istress of the House, had he?_

 

* * *

 

There was a little girl in earthy, simple dress with mink lined sleeves and black low-heeled boots greeted you and Vincent, her plaits were made into a strict bun with wooden beads and she wore a sensible amber accented hat which reminded you of your own child. Ciel would now surely enjoy her hair being plaited and made into a cute bun.  Your husband and the girl, no, the Little Lady Ross started to haggle, to place an appropriate price of information.

You explored the Mansion after the little lady permitted _(the butler interrupted them after sometime, reminding his Mistress that the horse and riffle had been ready and it was time to continue her hunting lesson)_ , finding no large family portrait that you’d commissioned months ago had placed proudly, the stairs’ rug was in a different shade of scarlet, the increasing number of Noir furniture and depressed paintings hung along the corridors, the mansion surely had lost its warmth with her so-called new mistress occupied it.

Your husband had no doubt that she was a close relative though, what with her last name mirroring his father, the elusive Duke Ross who had died too young.  

It was time for dinner and a crimson haired, clumsy maid greeted them.

They had been provided with appropriate attire; your husband in his midnight blue suit, silk dress shirt and gloves like always was looking sharp, you were clad in your new forest green gown and emerald jewelleries with your usual crimson smile. You looked at your reflection, feeling a sharp pang of regret, when you held your husband’s gloved hand and sure that there was no Phantomhive family ring, nor the signet ring, your brain suddenly began to overdrive, your thing were running wildly ranging from _what if this was an alternate universe that there was no Phantomhive family or Durless family, what would happen to your child_ now, _was she never born in this world?_

Both of them were in precarious position with nothing to gamble, they had no power. _Maybe Diedrich could help but he probably was in Germany; If there was a Diedrich in this world. And the last but the most important thing was that they needed to bring this to the Queen, no not the Queen but Undertaker as soon as possible, no doubt he knew the answer for such a rare case._

You held your heartbreak, your child was missing, probably dead but you could make another one after this fiasco.      

 

* * *

 

 

The little lady was familiar yet foreign, this evening she wore striped black and white dress with long sleeves and sable lined collar paired with jade earrings, dark tresses plaited and shaped into a bun with amethyst lotus carved into a lacquered wood hairpin secured it, a very mature style that she’d adapted while her face still had tiny traces baby fat that she had to shed into Hecate’s cauldron though her blue orbs, bluer than lapis’s, were harder than diamond, her lips talked in a cold and detached tone, betraying her enthusiastic eyes as she talked to her ( _maybe)_ friend.

“…the possibilities are endless; I need to examine them closely.”

“Yes, yes. You and he are permitted to examine them, or vivisect them, I don’t care.”

Her companion snapped her pretty head at your coming.

“You know that it was not true, you always reviewed my procedure. Oh, hello Master Vincent, Mistress Rachel, My name is Sieglinde Sullivan and if you both agree I’d like to hear your tales after breakfast tomorrow.”

She was dressed in the same fabric as the little lady with more child-styled cut, sable fur as short sleeves, her hair was short, held with jade and gold hair band, this little girl gave a  disarming yet no nonsense, a sort of familiar scientific  smile that An plastered against stubborn patients.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner went smoothly; you enjoyed the duck confit, the nicoise salad and two pieces of strawberry macaroons.

Now though, as your husband negotiated with her again,  _(how ridiculous was this situation?)_ , her lips becoming thinner and thinner, there was a harsh laugh and suddenly she smiled at the end of their little game, the young lips curved into something impossibly seductive, a feat that no other twelve years old little lady could ever hope, and you now could draw her as the Snow Queen, she who lazed around her wintry throne, the people spread around her, red and dead as her weapons and shields, her pawns, rooks, knights.

You almost shuddered, your overactive imagination presented the vision of your Ciel, young and cheerful, childish, precocious Ciel would hardened into this creature in the future.

It was probably the best that Ciel had no place in this strange world.

The peculiar smile was not a nice one.

And then after your husband finished, the butler, once always stayed hidden, well-mannered and respectful towards all of them destroyed your illusion by lowered himself in his knees, presented his Mistress with a ring, a familiar, sapphire in emerald-cut laid in platinum; in her black lace gloved palm, ruby eyes mocked like a demon gifted his beloved with a sacrifice as he reminded her that grinding the Phantomhive family ring with her heeled boots was not an appropriate response _(or was it a tantrum?)_ of her situation and what would her predecessor said.

The little lady graced Sebastian with a scowled face, blue eyes gave a fixed stare and spoke that she’d cared not for her predecessor, stated that this ring has no meaning if she was not the one wearing it; her mouth turned up in straight line after the declaration as if dared him to criticize her further as he snuggled said ring into her left thumb.

Finally, you were aware of this- this reality. It was the glare that you put on whenever your husband took your little girl into Lau’s tea house or Undertaker’s lair, it was his face that adorned this little lady’s, no, not his current one but the one from his childhood portrait, once that still clothed in baby fat.       

Your husband’s features were stoned, like a statue carved into marble, yours were too horrified.

The little lady held one arm forward, clad in black and white silk, enclosed her servant’s shoulder and she comfortably positioned herself in his arms as her butler stood up and scandalously carried her out of the room.

 

_This was what your baby had had done to survive after you and Vincent died._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ciel used the last name Ross (from the genealogy trees, we all knew that he was Vincent’s father). Either the Dukedom Ross was a defunct one once the young Duke died, or he was not a noble one (what a scandal!) or the Phantomhive was an exception, every male that married to the only heiress would take her last name, the same applied for their future offspring as well; it was done to make sure there was always a Phantomhive guarded the British Underworld. 
> 
> Lacquer is a liquid that is spread on wood or metal and that dries to form a hard and shiny surface. Lacquered is used to describe things that have been coated or sprayed with lacquer.
> 
> Potager : A Kitchen Garden.


End file.
